


all of these stars will guide us home

by faerietailes



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, all chapter titles are song lyrics because i'm cheesy, everyone in overwatch will be mentioned at one point or another, the ones tagged are the ones mentioned more prominently, there are no omnics, this is a purely human au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-29 01:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10843773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerietailes/pseuds/faerietailes
Summary: she was thirteen when she first saw him.she was eighteen when she told him she loves him.she was twenty-one when he left.she is twenty-five when he comes home.[ a/n: this was originally titled these hands had to let it go free (this love came back to me) ]





	1. we found love right where we are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically this idea happened when I was listening to Taylor Swift's "This Love" and this started off as a fic based of the song but I think it kind of got out of hand lmao but here you go!

She was thirteen when she saw him for the first time.

She was playing out in the garden when a large van pulled up in the driveway next door, followed by a sleek black car, and she dropped the ball she was holding to favour a look over the fence that connected her garden with her neighbour’s. Her parents had told her that she was getting new neighbours, and she had been excited to see what kind of people she would be living next to. Maybe she’d make a friend, a friend whom she could introduce to her other friends in the neighbourhood. She kept her eyes trained on the movement of the driver of the sleek black car as he made his way around the back, holding the car door open.

The first man that stepped out was around her parents’ age, and wore a pristine suit (she had wondered how he could handle wearing such a thing in the middle of summer). He did not smile, or looked her way as he made his way into the empty house. The next person to step out of the car was a boy around her age, maybe older. He, like his father, did not smile, but had turned to face her for a fraction of a second, and she swore she saw the beginning of a frown forming on his face. But he turned away almost as quick, following his father up the steps. The last person to step out of the car was the opposite of the two before him; he looked about her age, and was wearing a loose t-shirt and a bandana around his forehead.

The most startling thing about his appearance was the green of his hair.

It was the colour of the grass beneath her feet, of the highlighters she used in school, and she could not help but stare at it.

She was still staring when he stopped just outside the door of the house, and when he turned to look at her, she had expected him to scowl or question why she had stared. Instead, he had simply given her a grin and lifted his hand in a quick wave before disappearing inside.

In her haste to get back inside her own house, she had left her ball sitting in the middle of her garden.

* * *

She was fourteen and three quarters when she first talked to him.

It’s strange, she thought, that they had been neighbours for almost two years, yet she had never spoken to him or his brother or his father. He didn’t go to school, and when she questioned her parents about it, they had told her that both boys were homeschooled. However, their father had fallen ill after a return from a business trip, and in his state, he was deemed unfit to continue homeschooling, which meant that his two sons would venture into the world of public schooling.

When she had stepped out of her house on the first day of school, she had saw him walking to the awaiting car, following behind his brother (she watched as he tried to trip up the elder of the two). Before he got into the car, he turned and when he saw her standing in front of her porch, had lifted a hand in a wave.

“Good morning!”

The only respond she gave was a tiny squeak, not expecting him to be so cheery so early in the morning. It’s not until the car had pulled out of the driveway that she realized she had to run to catch the bus.

Later, she learned that he is in her homeroom, and when he sat down behind her, the first thing she did was turn around, look him square in the eye and asked:

“Is that your real hair colour?”

* * *

She was seventeen when he asked her on a date.

She didn’t hesitate in her response.

The date was not elaborate — just a simple trip to the weekend carnival. They spent the entire evening wandering around the grounds, playing the stall games and winning each other prizes (he won her a stuffed giraffe, and she won him a funny looking hat).

* * *

She was seventeen when she had her first kiss.

She had seen the movies, and had expected to see fireworks or hear the chimes of the bell or feel like she was walking on clouds.

But she did not get any of that.

Instead, what she got was a skip in her heartbeat, a soft hand resting on the side of her cheek, and the taste of cotton candy on her lips.

And when she pulled away, she had thought that reality was so much better than the movies.

* * *

She was eighteen when she told him she loved him.

It was her birthday, and he had planned an elaborate date — it began with a visit to the new art museum (one that had been raving about for the past two weeks), and then dinner and a stroll around the pier on their way home.

The museum was everything she had wished for and more, and when they had finished, she told him that she immediately wanted to go back in. His response came in a laugh and a kiss to her temple.

Dinner was not as fascinating as the museum, but it was still as good. Italian, one of her favourites, and when he had joked that they should recreate the scene from Lady and the Tramp with his spaghetti, she had almost choked on her pasta from laughter.

The walk along the pier was, in one word, romantic. With the setting sun illuminating their way, she could not have pictured a better ending to an amazing birthday. When they reached a bench overlooking the ocean, she led him to it and pulled him down to sit next to her.

“Let’s just stay here for a while to watch the sunset,” she had said, and when he wrapped an arm around her, she rested her head on his shoulder and took his other hand, intertwining their fingers together.

There was a few moments of comfortable silence as they enjoyed each other’s presence, and when the sun had almost disappeared over the horizon, she brought their intertwined hands up to her lips and pressed a kiss to the back of his had.

“I love you.”

For a moment, she felt him tense up beside her, but before she can even think about how there was a possibility he didn’t feel the same, he felt him relax and when she heard his laugh, she lifted her head to look up at him, confusion colouring her features. When he looked back at her with a smile and a twinkle in her eye, she relaxed and returned the smile.

“I love you too.” The words alone brought a wave of happiness over her, and she reached up and placed a sweet kiss on his lips, one that he returned almost instantly. When they pulled away, she doesn’t bother to hide the smile on her face and when she felt his thumb brush against the back of her hand, she felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

They end that day with another kiss just as the sun disappeared behind the horizon, and the words at the tip of their tongues.

* * *

 

She was nineteen when she loses what is considered the most important thing to a woman.

It was not like she was saving herself for marriage, but there had never seemed to be the time or place — there had been plenty of moments when it had almost happened, but they had somehow always been interrupted (hearing the main door open, or someone’s untimely text or call, or even, much to her horror, having his brother walk in while they were in a rather compromising positon on the couch in the living room). She had considered taking a quick weekend trip away for some privacy, but had not voiced the thought out to him, thinking it to be a tad too desperate.

Opportunity arose during one of his visits to her college (she had gone away to a prestigious medical school whilst he had remained home to attend the local college), and it was the first time her dorm mate had gone home, which meant that they had the entire place to themselves.

Once he was settled in from his long trip, they had decided to order in and watch a movie on Netflix. However, neither of them paid much attention to what was playing — his lips had found themselves along the column of her neck, teeth nipping into the sensitive skin, and she instinctively arched her neck, allowing him more access.

It didn’t take long for her to completely lose interest in the movie playing, instead focusing on tugging at the fabric of his t-shirt, a silent plea. He responded quickly, breaking apart to pull the offending clothing over his head, and tossed it on the floor beside him. The next articles of clothing to go was his jeans and her sweatpants, both laid discarded somewhere on the ground. The final piece of clothing to go was the sweater she wore (one that she had stolen from him a few months back), and there was a moment of pause when he realized that the sweater was the only thing she had been wearing the entire day.

“I was prepared,” was the only answer she provided to his silent question, and when he flashed her his devilish smile, she felt her cheeks warm. In a flurry of movement, he has shifted their positions so that he hovered over her, trapping her between himself and the bed beneath her.

He was gentle with her, never overstepping his boundaries or taking out of her comfort zone. She had to remind himself that while she was new to this, he wasn’t, and that he knew exactly what he was doing. And whatever he did, it had her craving more.

Every touch, every nip, every lingering kiss made her skin crawl, and when he had asked if she was ready, all she could do was nod in response, not trusting her own voice.

She was told, by her classmates, that her first time would be painful. That she would be uncomfortable, and probably want it to stop immediately. However, none of that applied to her. She had to admit, there was a slight uncomfortableness at first, but when that passed, all she could think of was how wrong her classmates had been. Her nails dug deep into the skin of his back, and she felt one of his hand roam all over her body while the other was propped up against the headboard behind her.

When she was nearing her high, she tightened her legs around his body and his name was said like a prayer as a wave of ecstasy washed over her. Her eyes had been shut but she saw flashes of white behind closed lids, and when she felt his head drop to rest against her shoulder, she turned her head to press a kiss to the side of his head, muttering three words against his skin.

That night, they fell asleep with tangled limbs and soft kisses spread over skin.

The next morning, she received a text from her roommate saying that she was coming home early due to family issues, and when she showed him the text, he simply laughed, pulled her into a warm kiss and muttered:

“Lucky we didn’t decide to wait until tonight.”

* * *

She was twenty-one when he left her.

She doesn’t know what happened, or why he did it. She tried to call his cellphone, but was sent straight to voicemail. She tried again, but this time she was greeted with the robotic voice of someone whose sole duty was to inform people that the number they were calling was no longer in service.

She tried his brother, and was met with the same fate.

That summer, when she came home from college, she saw the ‘for sale’ sign on her neighbour’s house and when she asked her parents, they had only informed her that they didn’t know why or what happened, and that the sign was a complete shock to them. The only information that was remotely useful to her was that apparently, there was a note addressed to her in her room.

She found the note sitting on her desk, and when she sees her name printed on the envelope in his handwriting, she does not know whether to smile or cry.

She read the note, and the only thing she did was cry.

 _I’m sorry,_ it said, in his handwriting, _and I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is mainly a test to see whether or not people will be interested in this fic. If there's not enough positive reviews / kudos, etc., I'm more than happy to leave this as a one-shot / drabble thing.


	2. this love came back to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he says her name, she feels her heart drop, and of course, she does what any sane twenty-five-year-old would do in this situation: Angela turns on her heel and runs into her apartment, slamming the door shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had three chapters ready to upload but I decided that I hated the way I wrote them, so here I am, rewriting it all.

**4 years later**

“Mommy!”

Angela lifts her head from the table, sending lose sheets of paper flying onto the floor, and in her groggy state, she hits the cup sitting next to her arm. Thankfully, she moves just fast enough to right the mug before the coffee spills onto the contents of the table. With a sigh of relief, she straightens her back, wincing as her bones clicked into place. She really needed to stop falling asleep at her desk. Stifling a yawn, she hears the familiar voice once again, and her head turns to her front door as the sound of feet rushing by passes through her ears.

“Mommy! Mommy! Where’s Ellie? Mommy!”

Make no mistake about it; Angela Ziegler loves her neighbors. She really does. She loves walking out of her apartment and seeing the twin three-year-olds greet her down the hallway. She loves how their mother sometimes invites Angela over for tea, and sometimes Angela even offers to watch the children when the parents need some time off.

What she doesn’t love is when they run around screaming at the top of their lungs on a Saturday morning. On most days, Angela doesn’t mind. After all, she’s usually awake before they are, so their childish glee doesn’t affect her as she goes on about her day. But on the rare days where she has a weekend off and accidentally spends the entire night still working only to fall asleep at her desk, in the room right by the apartment hallway, their sounds are anything but music to her ears.

From where she’s still sitting, Angela hears their mother berate the twins for causing so much noise on an otherwise quiet morning, and when she hears the dejected agreements of the twins, Angela can’t help but feel slightly sorry for them. But then she remembers that she’s probably only had about three hours of sleep and the sorry is quickly replaced by a quiet thankfulness.

Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, Angela stands from the table and grabs the mug (before it accidentally spills all over her work). As she makes her way to the kitchen, she runs through her to-do list for the day: grocery shopping, cleaning, and dropping by the hospital to check on some paperwork are at the top of the list. Just as she places the cup into the sink, she hears her phone go off on the coffee table, and since it’s not her work phone, Angela takes her time to pick it up.

She gets five texts in the span of a minute from two different people.

(text from — **Fareeha Amari** ) I hope you’re up

(text from — **Fareeha Amari** ) We come bearing gifts

(text from — **Jesse McCree** ) fareeha ate one for you and she’s going to blame me but it was her

(text from — **Fareeha Amari** ) Don’t believe whatever Jesse tells you

(text from — **Jesse McCree** ) knock knock angel

And right on cue, there’s three sharp knocks on her door. And two minutes later, the door is unlocked and Angela watches with a tired amusement as her friends walk in — the box in Jesse’s hand looks suspiciously like it comes from the bakery Angela loves, and when he catches her staring at it, he simply offers it towards her, with one of his usual charming greetings:

“Jeez, Ange, did you not sleep last night? No offence, but you look tragic.”

“Thanks, Jesse. And I did sleep. At my desk. At about five a.m.”

Behind him, Fareeha mutters something that sounds like _“I knew it”_ under her breath, but Angela ignores her in favor of taking a seat on the couch, fingers unclasping the box on her lap.

“Normally I would wonder why you two are bringing me my favorite pastries so early in the morning without any prompting, but I’m too hungry to really question why. I am not even going to fuss over how there’s one less Danish in here, because I am a nice friend and I don’t mind you two going halves on one.” She bites into the Danish in her hand and she feels all her worries melt away. She has lived in this apartment building for two years and without a doubt, she always makes time for a Danish at least once a day.

“It was Jesse that ate the Danish.” There’s a grin on Fareeha’s face as she sits down next to Angela, picking up one of the magazines on the coffee table. “And we do have a reason as to why we’re here, aside from bringing gifts for you.”

“We also heard from a certain grumpy Landlord Morrison that your new neighbors —” Jesse points behind him, towards the empty apartment across the hall from Angela’s, “Are moving in today. Specifically, at 9 a.m. So here we are.”

“To be nosey?” Angela speaks around a mouthful of Danish (she’s too hungry to worry about etiquette, especially in front of the two people that have known her the longest).

“And bring you, our favorite doctor friend, breakfast!”

“I’m your only doctor friend.”

“Even more reason you’re our favorite. Right, Pharah?” The nickname earns him an eye-roll from Fareeha, and she simply shrugs as a response to his question.

“Jesse wanted to see if there was anyone hot he can have dibs on, and he dragged me along because he didn’t want to seem too desperate.”

Angela almost chokes on her breakfast trying to fight back the laughter as Jesse throws a well-aimed cushion right at Fareeha’s face (one that she returns quickly, and in his haste to catch it, Jesse almost tumbles over).

“Well, feel free to make yourselves at home. Not that I have to remind you guys — I’m going to polish off the rest of this Danish and have a shower.” Angela picks up her third and final pastry from the box and polishes it off in three bites.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, when Angela steps into her living room, she doesn’t spot Fareeha or Jesse anywhere in sight, which is concerning. Even as adults, they had a flare for pulling pranks, especially on her. She is about to call out for them when she hears shuffling outside her apartment, followed by a familiar “Watch it, Jesse!” and “Jesus Christ, Pharah!”

Angela makes her way to the main door and when she pulls it open, the sight in front of her is enough for a laugh to escape — Jesse and Fareeha are standing in front of her, a large box between them.

“Don’t tell me you’re snooping?” She knows what’s going on, but it doesn’t mean that she can’t tease them.

“Ha—ha, Ange, so funny. We’re being neighborly.”

“You two don’t live on this floor.”

“It doesn’t matter; we’re being nice.” Under the brim of his cowboy hat, Angela catches the hints of a cheeky grin, and she rolls her eyes.

“Whoever my new neighbor is, they must be hot.”

Just then, a woman rounds the corner, one hand clutching the hand of the little girl beside her.

“Oh, thank you very much! You can just leave that box in the entryway!” She waits patiently as Jesse and Fareeha maneuver their way inside, and once the box is placed safely away from harm, she turns and sees Angela standing by the door. “Hello! You must be the new neighbor — my name is Asuka.” She extends her free hand, and Angela takes it with a small shake. “And this is Hikari, my daughter.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Angela. I hope my friends haven’t been too annoying. Especially Jesse.”

“And the same to you. Oh, no worries! They have been very helpful, especially since the actual people that were supposed to help me got stuck in traffic.”

“Well, I’ll be more than happy to help too!”

“Oh, there’s no need! Your friends bought up the last box — the rest is in the other car, which, excuse me.” The phone in her purse starts ringing then, and she lets go of her daughter’s hand to rummage through her bag. When she finds her phone, she gives Angela a silent apology and holds the device to her ear. Angela doesn’t know what she says, because she speaks in Japanese, and when she finishes the conversation, Asuka pockets her phone and takes her daughter’s hand back in hers. “The car’s just arrived, and there are only three boxes left. If it’s not too much trouble though, would you mind keeping an eye on Hikari for me while I go downstairs to help the guys?”

Angela nods, and Asuka bends down to whisper something in Hikari’s ear and when she lets go of her hand, the little girl shuffles quietly over to Angela and her friends.

When the four of them are left in the hallway, Jesse bends down and looks at Hikari, removing his cowboy hat. “Howdy, I’m Jesse. What’s your name?”

“Hikari.” Her accent is heavy, and she can’t keep her eyes off the large hat in his hand.

“Well, it’s nice to meet ya. This here is Fareeha, but she loves it when people call her Pharah —” This earns Jesse a nudge on the back of his head, one that he ignores. “And this here is —”

Before he can continue the sentence, there’s movement coming from around the corner and all four individuals turn their attention to the newcomer. Angela can’t see who it is because of the large box obscuring their face, but she can tell that it’s a male, and there’s something about him that seems so familiar, yet she can’t seem to put her finger on it. Even without facial confirmation, however, Hikari quickly disappears from Angela’s side and runs towards the stranger, grabbing one of the man’s legs just as they reached the door.

The man speaks in Japanese to the little girl, and whatever he says does the trick — the little girl lets go of his leg and when he puts the box down, she immediately has her hands outstretched towards him, and he picks her up with ease, placing her on his shoulders.

The next few moments seem to go by in slow motion — Angela’s gaze fixes on Hikari for a moment before they travel down and lands on a pair of familiar brown eyes. She knows those eyes — she’d know them anywhere. Beside her, she hears Fareeha’s gasp and Jesse’s muttered profanity.

The entire hallway falls silent, and only when Angela hears Hikari’s giggle does she break out of her trance. The one word Angela speaks is quiet, but in the silence that surrounds them, it is as if she had screamed.

“— Genji?”

“Angela.”

When he says her name, she feels her heart drop, and of course, she does what any sane twenty-five-year-old would do in this situation: Angela turns on her heel and runs into her apartment, slamming the door shut behind her. She barely registers Fareeha’s and Jesse’s footsteps fade away.

All she can think about is the man standing on the other side of her door, with a child sitting on his shoulders, and she feels the emotions from the past four years ago bubbling up inside of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the positive comments and kudos that's been left on this fic — you guys are all awesome!


	3. a heart that's been broke is a heart that's been loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asuka gives a small bow of her head and she is about to turn away when she pauses. The look she gives Angela is one of curiosity, but Angela swears there’s a hint of amusement in her small smile.
> 
> “If I may ask, do you and Genji know each other?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been reading all the comments left on this and I have to say that I am officially Shook by just how much you guys seem to be enjoying this?! I appreciate all of this, so thank you!
> 
> Also, I'm busy with irl things so updates may come slower than normal for the next few chapters!

Angela spends the next two hours cleaning. She rearranges her bookshelves, changes her bedsheets, cleans her bathroom, and even manages to sort through the mess that is her makeshift office. She even clears out her pantry and cleans her entire kitchen from ceiling to floor. When she finds nothing else to clean, she works on clearing out her closet — by the end of the two hours, her apartment is spotless, and there is a bag of unwanted clothes sitting next to her front door, awaiting to be taken to the nearest donation store.

When she can no longer find anything to clean or tidy, Angela makes herself a cup of tea and is about to make herself comfortable in front of her television when there’s a knock on her door. She jumps at the sound and almost knocks her cup of tea over, and if she wasn’t so jittery, she might’ve laughed at the fact that she almost dropped cups full of liquid twice in one day.

She reaches her door and looks through the peephole. When she sees Asuka standing on the other side of the mahogany door, Angela almost turns around and heads back to the comfort of her couch and Disney movies, but she was taught better. So, she unlocks the door, pulling it open just enough to be hospitable but not big enough to warrant an invitation inside.

“Forgive me for intruding, Angela, but I didn’t get a chance to properly thank you and your friends for helping with the move earlier.”

Angela offers a smile and shakes her head. “Oh, don’t worry about it! If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.” Despite the circumstance, Angela Ziegler was never one to turn away from people who needed help. “I’ll definitely pass on the thanks to Fareeha and Jesse, too.”

Asuka gives a small bow of her head and she is about to turn away when she pauses. The look she gives Angela is one of curiosity, but Angela swears there’s a hint of amusement in her small smile.

“If I may ask, do you and Genji know each other?”

For a few seconds, Angela can only stare at the other woman with wide eyes and parted lips.

“Uh, yeah, I guess we do.”

“I see.” There’s no hint of malice in Asuka’s voice or in her demeanor — in fact, Angela is certain that the other woman seems to be grinning. Before either of them can say more, a loud giggle breaks the silence, followed by a laugh Angela hasn’t heard in four years. It’s only then that she realizes Asuka’s door was wide open, and the laughter was coming from inside.

There’s a sinking feeling in the depth of Angela’s stomach, and Asuka turns at the sound for a quick second before she turns back to Angela.

“I better go see what is going on inside. I’ll see you around, Angela.” With a small wave of her hand, Asuka turns and heads back into her own apartment, closing the door behind her.

Angela is left standing in the threshold of her place, wondering just what she had done in her past life to deserve this.

* * *

“So, you think it’s actually his kid?” Fareeha sits across from Jesse, her chin resting on her cupped hand.

“I mean, it sure ain’t his sister.” Jesse breaks a piece of the cheesecake in front of him, “And I can tell you it ain’t his brother’s kid, either.”

The quirk of Fareeha’s sole brow is prominent, but she doesn’t push that topic. “I wonder how Angela’s doing.”

* * *

 

“You know, you should probably come clean to her.”

“I will.”

“When? When Hikari gets a new sibling?”

“No, I — wait. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

* * *

When Angela wakes up the next morning, she is happy. Her alarm goes off at precisely 5:45am, and by 6:45am, she is out the door. Before most other individuals living in this apartment. It’s rare that she sees another occupant on her way out, but of course, she really should’ve seen this coming. After all, this past day just seemed full of surprises.

As soon as Angela steps in the lobby of the apartment, she wished she had hit the snooze button on her alarm. That way, she would’ve been late and would not have to be standing face to face with him.

She doesn’t know what to say, or whether if she should say anything at all. Maybe she should just pretend she doesn’t seem him and walk around him — after all, he looked like he just came back from a run. He’s tired, he probably just wants to go home and sleep.

Angela makes the decision to ignore him, and it seems that he has the same idea — they walk past each other without even a single glance, and Angela is almost out the door when he says her name.

“Angela, wait.”

She stops mid-step and turns.

“I, uh –” He has a hand on the back of his neck, and from the way he bites his bottom lip and looks at the ground, Angela can tell he’s nervous.

“I actually have to get to work.” She doesn’t mean to sound harsh, but if she doesn’t leave now, she might say something she’ll regret, and work really is calling. He mumbles something in response, and she takes it as her getaway opportunity. She turns back and walks towards the entrance, but before she leaves, she gives him another look over her shoulder, a small smile appearing on her pink lips.

“You seem well, Genji.”

The last thing she sees before she heads outside is the small smile on his lips and Angela tries not to think about how her stomach seems to be home to butterflies for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That little in-game shoutout is my way of apologising for how short and filler-y this chapter is :^)


End file.
